


Warmth

by nerdy-flower (baconnegg)



Series: The Shimada Brothers Need Healing [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Brothers learning how to be brothers again, Canon Disabled Character, Canon ages altered slightly, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Even though I enjoy all the delicate ankle fanart a whole lot, Family Bonding, Family Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Genji Shimada is a Little Shit, Hurt/Comfort, I consider Hanzo's prosthetic legs canon, Like that post that says so much of current fic is about characters being safe and happy?, M/M, Multi, The boys work through a lot of stuff here, There are sad bits but it's happy overall, This is more of that, Wait who said that, Wedding Fluff, You do you!, Zen and Hanzo are meditation buddies, good communication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-13 20:39:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13578525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baconnegg/pseuds/nerdy-flower
Summary: Zenyatta and Hanzo have a nice long talk. Hanzo and Genji catch up with each other. Everyone is doing their best.(Set about a month after Crush, but it's not 100% necessary to have read it first)





	Warmth

The apartment smells chiefly of incense, tinny steam, and the wet-fresh smell of melting snow, carried in on a breeze from the cracked open patio door. Genji’s boots are gone from the mat. Saturday shifts at the day spa the norm again for him, now that the winter semester has started. Zenyatta hums a whimsical tune, pouring two large cups of chiya while Hanzo settles into one of the mismatched kitchen chairs. 

He has his brother to thank for these irregularly-scheduled meditation sessions with Zenyatta (“Just try it! He’s the real deal, way better than those freebie tracks online.”), but the visits have proved worthwhile. As much as Genji teases him for ‘bringing his work brain home,’ Zenyatta welcomes Hanzo’s subdued company and never oversteps his boundaries. 

“I think I’ve had my fill of winter,” Zenyatta remarks, passing Hanzo his mug and nodding at his thanks. “I don’t mind the cold or the snow, but the ice and slush are a pain to deal with, and everything turns brown in the city.” 

“Agreed, I much prefer spring.” Hanzo takes a deep drink, enjoying the spice tickling his tongue. He hesitates briefly before speaking. “I had a question about your work, I was wondering if you could answer it for me.” 

Zenyatta perks up. “I can certainly try. What is it?” 

“As a professional, what would you recommend to someone who wants to change something in their life but feels completely stuck?” Hanzo runs his thumb over the looped handle of his chipped purple mug. “Is there a point where you have to tell clients to just accept things as they are?” 

Zenyatta hums thoughtfully and drums his fingers on the table, gears turning behind his eyes. “Well, if you’ll forgive the cliché, I believe that anyone can change if the desire is truly there. I welcome being wrong in most things, but I believe that humans are more resilient than we give ourselves credit for.” 

Hanzo nods, taking another long sip as Zenyatta continues. “As for what I would recommend- Well, that depends on the specific issue and the individual. There are no ready-made solutions, but I find that gradual change is always key.” He rolls up the sleeves of his black and white striped shirt to rest his elbows comfortably on the table. “For instance, if I was working with someone who struggle with their self-image, I might suggest that they say one neutral thing about themselves each day, then work up to five, then perhaps ten. When they’re ready, I’ll encourage them to say one positive thing, and so on.” 

“Sounds like a lengthy process.” 

“It definitely can be, but making a big change all at once is virtually impossible. Even on a biological level,” Zen’s eyes light up as he speaks, his passion flowing through his words and making Hanzo smile. “If your brain has spent many years building and following a particular neural pathway, you can no more reroute it in a day than dam an entire river.” 

*** 

“Oh geez,” Genji says between bites, catching his reflection in the window beside their booth. “I need to dye my hair again. My roots come up so fast.” 

“Why not let it grow out?” Hanzo tosses a mushroom into his mouth and chews quietly. “You might look mature for a change.” 

“No, I like it,” Genji replies tartly, diving back into his ramen. “Besides, I’m going grey all over, so I’d be dyeing it either way.” 

“A few white hairs don’t mean you’re ‘going grey.’” 

“I am! Look,” Genji pulls his hair back with his fingers, showing off the roots as light from passing cars tints their booth bleak yellow. Indeed, there are several broad bands of grey shooting up amidst the black and green. Genji lets it go with a sigh. “I guess it’s the Shimada in me. Didn’t Tou-san say he started going grey at thirty?” 

Hanzo stills, noodles halfway to his mouth. “Oh my god, you’re thirty.” 

Genji half-heartedly glares at him, unimpressed. “And you’re senile.” 

“Oh god,” Hanzo drags a hand down his face, a little more distressed than he’d like to be. “What happened? When did we get old?” 

“Hey, speak for yourself. I’m still brimming with youthful vigour,” Genji speaks around a full mouth, jabbing his chopsticks at Hanzo. “And save your existential crises for your own birthday.” 

*** 

“So, baby steps would be your suggestion?” 

“Quite right,” Zenyatta nods, teasing the lid off their robot-shaped cookie jar. “That’s where most people get hung up, in my experience. They don’t see instant results, so they give up. I appreciate their frustration. By the time someone is ready to change, they’ve typically been unhappy for some time.” 

Hanzo takes another pull from his mug, feeling the peppery burn in his throat. “Do you have any remedies for that frustration?” 

“Only patience, I’m afraid,” Zenyatta chuckles lightly, his smile turning maudlin in the pale afternoon sun. “I can offer no promises to the people I’m helping, unfortunately. No assurances that everything will work out or that there won’t be more pitfalls along the way. All I can do is encourage them to hope and work towards a better tomorrow.” 

“And does it usually work out in the end?” Hanzo wipes a spilled drop from his lip. “For your clients, that is.” 

“Not exactly, because there are no ends except the obvious one,” Zenyatta’s mouth twitches. “But if you don’t mind the morbidity, I find that to be the best encouragement of all.” 

*** 

He blows out a deep breath before hitting send. 

**HS:** GS: Hey ^_^! Just chilling w Zen at the botanical gardens 

A picture message follows after a few seconds, a snapshot showing Zen gleaming in one of Genji’s painfully neon hoodies, surrounded by greenery and studying a large monarch butterfly perched on the petals of a zinnia. 

**GS:** What a babe right (¬‿¬)

Hanzo snorts and types back. 

**HS:** Haha. Sorry to bother you on your date. 

**GS:** Nah, we’re just hanging out :P What’s up? 

Hanzo pauses, thumb hovering over the keys. He has to do this. It’s not fair for Genji to always have to initiate these things. This shouldn’t feel so intrusive, it’s just a question. 

**HS:** I was supposed to go to the movies with Satya tonight, but she’s sick. I was wondering if you were free? 

**GS:** Oh!! Yeah sure (─‿─) I don’t have any plans. What do you wanna do? 

Hanzo sighs in relief, though a small ache remains at Genji’s surprise. It can’t be helped. He can only go forward, he reminds himself as he taps out his suggestions. 

*** 

“At the risk of playing devil’s advocate,” Hanzo chuckles, letting the hot ceramic warm the sore joints caused by his frequent sketching. “Do you think some aspects of our lives are set in stone? Predetermined by genes or environment? Or both, I suppose.” 

*** 

“Heeey, it’s your favourite brother! I’ve got a favour to ask.” 

“I have caller ID,” Hanzo replies, replacing his phone in his shirt pocket and tucking the headphone wire away while he carries on folding laundry. “What do you need?” 

“We’re doing a survey for my psych class,” Genji’s voice gets quiet and then louder again as if he’s changing position. “We have to write down people’s earliest memories and what age they’re from. Do I need to read you the whole confidentiality spiel, or can I just get yours so you and McCree can get back to making out?” 

“Jesse isn’t even-” Hanzo cuts himself off with a sigh “Sounds like a make-work project. Is this really what you’re paying tuition for?” 

“Technically, my grants and loans are paying my tuition right now,” Genji says cheerily. “And I think it’s interesting. C’mon, tell me.” 

“I still don’t see the point,” Hanzo tuts, discovering a hole in one of McCree’s socks and putting it aside for mending. “What’s yours?” 

“Mine? Um, I think I was- maybe three? No, probably four, five? I don’t know,” Genji chuckles in tune with his brother. So much for the accuracy of this mock-study. “I was in bare feet out in the garden, you were playing or something on the grass, and I kept running into the pond and screaming because it was so cold, but then I’d laugh and run in again. I remember Tou-san was laughing at me, I think that’s why I kept doing it.” 

Hanzo finds himself smiling as he picks lint off one of his black t-shirts. “A natural entertainer from a young age.” 

“I know you really mean attention whore,” Genji cackles down the line. “So, what’s yours?” 

Hanzo gives in, humming as he tries to recall it. “I think I was about- five. You were asleep beside me- I heard our parents come home and got out of bed to open the door a crack. It was really late and they were dressed in black. It must have been after Ojii-san’s funeral…” 

“The timing’s right,” Genji mumbles, waiting for him to continue. 

“I don’t think they saw me- neither of them said anything. He looked up at her and started to sob…Then, she hugged him, and they just stood there for such a long time. That’s all I remember.” 

Genji is quiet for a stretch, and the humour in his tone comes out forced. “Geez, Hanzo, that’s- pretty depressing as first memories go.” 

Hanzo laughs, just barely. “I think it stuck with me because it was frightening. Until then, I didn’t know that adults could cry. And something about the way they looked at each other-“ 

_Their father’s face all pale, bluish bags heavy under his eyes. Their mother’s eyes all red even as she holds her stately head high. Naturally higher than his, but even more so now. Their formal clothing sits stiffly on them like armour. She reaches one of her sharp-fingered hands out and gently, so gently touches his cheek, surprising him. He raises his eyes and holds her gaze. Such depths of kindness in her steely eyes, so much worry in the lines of her face. His eyes seem stormy, then tender, then broken, tears streaming down. She folds his heaving body against hers, holding him up and tucking her face against his neck as he weeps-_

“…It was strangely compelling. So much emotion I didn’t understand then, but I did as I got older.” 

The edge of the bed creaks underneath him and he can hear Genji’s rapid typing before his brother replies. “Yeah, makes sense. And thanks for that.” A pause. “That’s still pretty sad, though.” 

Hanzo shrugs and goes back to folding. “Can’t be helped.” 

*** 

“I don’t think I’m qualified to have an opinion on that,” Zenyatta replies with an amused laugh. “There are no unbiased perspectives on the human experience. We’re all living inside it. I think we’re all doing our best with what we’ve been dealt, but then, that’s more my faith than my faculties talking.” 

“Perhaps it’s all a matter of stubbornness, then.” Both men laugh, and Hanzo helps himself to some biscuits, fighting the temptation to dunk them in his tea as Jesse continuously insists is the best way. 

*** 

“So, when’s the last time you saw your prosthetist?” 

“The follow-up to my last fitting, about three years ago.” 

Angela pauses, pen hovering over her clipboard. “Do you have a physiotherapist?” 

“Not presently.” 

“A chiropractor?” 

“No.” 

She grimaces. “What about a primary physician?” 

“I just go to the walk-in clinic.” 

A restrained sigh. “How do you manage your pain?” 

“With aspirin and time.” 

At that, Angela drops her professional front and massages her fair forehead as if she has a migraine. “Is this where you say ‘I told you so?’” 

“No, I would never say that,” Genji slides a large iced coffee with whipped topping into Dr. Ziegler’s hand and bends to quickly kiss her temple. “But I will say that I warned you. I’m gonna be late, bye Angela! You complete me!” 

“Good luck, I guess!” Angela calls after Genji as he rushes out of the lab to his exam, gyroscopic knee swinging under his jogging shorts. She takes a long swig of her drink and sets it down carefully away from Hanzo’s new file, turning back towards him and flipping to a blank page. “So, before we move forward with the prototype process, there are some recommendations I’d like to make. I’ll make sure to have the referrals done by the end of the day to avoid delays-“ 

“Did they put you up to this?” Hanzo holds a hand up, ashamed of his overly stern tone. “I’m sorry, but if Genji and Jesse sent me here with the intent of forcing me to ‘take better care of myself,’ I would like to leave and not waste our time.” 

“No one put me up to anything, Hanzo,” Angela replies firmly and perhaps a bit wearily, re-crossing her legs. “Genji asked if my funding had room for you, I told him yes, and that it would be an interesting opportunity to work on a bilateral AK patient. That’s all. Whatever they said to you to actually encourage you to come here is between you and them.” 

Hanzo feels heat creep up his throat and shifts uncomfortably on the plastic chair. “I apologize. They’ve both been pestering me recently and frankly, places like this put me on edge.” 

“That’s not uncommon, actually,” Angela nods. “Is it fair to assume you’ve gotten your share of patronization and forced intimacy?” 

“Enough for a lifetime,” Hanzo grimaces, then looks away. “But that has nothing to do with you, don’t worry about it.” 

“I won’t, actually,” Angela replies, smiling briefly. “You’re not just a research subject to me. I do consider you my patient, and it would be terribly negligent of me to simply pop new prosthetics onto you without addressing the issues that could cripple you before you reach your forties.” 

Hanzo swallows thickly. “It’s that serious?” 

“It will get there, if you don’t visit the X-ray department, chronic pain clinic, a physiotherapist, dermatologist- maybe the social worker, but I won’t push my luck today,” Angela throws a familiar, kind smirk his way and turns to her computer, typing rapidly. “I intend to improve your quality of life, not hinder it. Barring major complications, I’ll be fitting you for your new and improved legs before you know it!” 

Hanzo smiles and lowers his head while she carries on with her notes. “I apologize in advance for being a difficult patient.” 

“No need,” She says with a grin, a few locks falling out of her messy ponytail. “After your brother and your boyfriend, you’ll be a breeze.” 

*** 

“Stubbornness, indeed,” Zenyatta continues, leaning forward to rest his chin on his hand, the gold and teal-painted beads around his neck clacking quietly. “To be honest, I think people are terrible at noticing positive change.” 

Hanzo makes a confused sound as he swallows another mouthful. “Even when they’re looking for it?” 

“Especially then, but only within ourselves. We’re much better at noticing changes in others.” Zenyatta lets out a small sigh. “We’re all too stuck in our own heads, I think.” 

*** 

“Jesus. You look just like Kaa-san with your hair like that.” 

Hanzo glances over, finding Genji staring from the sharp shadows cast into his bedroom by the setting autumn sun dipping behind buildings. He’d only let it down because the elastic was too tight. “I’m pretty sure she didn’t have a beard.” 

“Well yeah, but if you ignore that and the buzzed parts,” Genji walks over and moves Hanzo’s overgrown hair to hang over his right shoulder before he can object. “Remember how she used to have it like this? Put a cigarette in your hand and it would be eerie. Seriously.” 

Hanzo glances in the mirror hanging crooked on the wood-panel closet door, and he can almost see it. His hair isn’t nearly as long, but she’d always been described as ‘mannish’ outside of his father’s earshot. He definitely had her pronounced bone structure, if nothing else. “Hm, I guess. But you look much more like her.” 

“What? No way, the only Nakano in me is from here up,” Genji holds his hand in a line under his eyes. “Brows excepted, obviously.” 

Hanzo nods. Despite the alterations and scars, Genji very much resembles their father in his youth. The same nose (though now reconstructed), the fuller lips, and the lean, athletic body. But those frighteningly deep, expressive eyes are unquestionably their mother’s. They always seem to overwhelm the rest of him whenever Hanzo looks at his brother. He holds himself a little like her too, always a slight slouch and his thoughts showing in the quirk of his mouth. Hanzo didn’t see anything like that in his own reflection, he just looked like himself. 

“Ooh, this is fancy!” Genji has returned to tearing through Hanzo’s closet. A last-minute Halloween party invitation from Hana has apparently necessitated his brother’s assistance. He’s pulled out a crisp white shirt with a high, starched collar. “This could be the beginning of a decent vampire costume.” 

“That’s Jesse’s, he wears it for job interviews.” 

“Oh, no good then,” Genji replaces it and goes back to hunting. “You’d probably stretch it out with your enormous rack.” 

Hanzo lets out a strangled noise and covers his eyes for a moment. “Please get out of my house.” 

*** 

“I guess that’s the most distressing part of it all,” Hanzo muses after Zenyatta returns from filling his second cup. “You can’t know anyone the way you know yourself. You just have to trust that what they tell you is the truth.” He chuckles to himself. “Sorry, that came out more fatalistic than I intended.” 

“Well, you’re not entirely wrong,” Zenyatta shrugs, letting out a small, rather endearing squeak when he takes a drink too soon and scalds his tongue. “That’s why trust is such a gamble, and why abuse wounds us so deeply. You can never be completely certain of another person’s intentions.” Another, more cautious sip. “But then, there’s absolutely nothing certain in life. Expecting people to be the exception to that is just setting yourself up for disappointment.” 

Hanzo smiles and lifts his mug to polish off his own drink, goosebumps prickling when a cold gust blows into the otherwise cozy living room. “You always have such an enlightened perspective on things.” 

“Growing up surrounded by monks does that to a person, I guess.” Zenyatta giggles, leaning his cheek on his hand. “So, would you rather keep things in the hypothetical, or did you want more specific advice on improving your relationship with Genji?” 

Hanzo promptly inhales the last of his chiya and coughs for several prolonged, burning moments. 

*** 

At some point, they’d slid from the couch to the kotatsu, taking most of the cushions with them and lounging about like teenagers. A joint trip to put their compromised joints through their paces at physiotherapy has left them wrung out, sore and carefully bundled in oversized jumpers and sweatpants. The first real cold snap of the season doesn’t help any, with temperatures plunging into the negative double digits and a sheen of ice on everything. The sort of day that makes human hibernation seem like a sorely unexplored concept. 

“I’m gonna make it, I’m gonna make it- Nope, I’m on fire,” Genji thumps his forehead against the table. He passes Hanzo the controller and rolls onto his knees to stand. “I’m going to die of old age before I get out of this goddamn Wind Temple. You want anything?” 

“A drink, please, whatever you’re having is fine,” Hanzo taps through the restart screen and starts from the beginning again, destroying some pots to get his health meter back up. “Did I tell you that Jesse wants to take me horseback riding while we’re in Santa Fe?” 

“No? That’s awesome!” Genji rifles through the fridge and returns with two sodas and a bag of dollar store candy. “That’s only a week away, isn’t it? Make sure to buy me lots of souvenirs.” 

“Pft, right,” Hanzo chews on his lip as he tries to figure out the puzzle. “I really don’t know how he talked me into it, but I can’t back out now. He knows the people who own the farm and has it all arranged.” 

“Was he kissing you on the neck when he asked?” 

Hanzo shoots him a sideways glance. “What the hell does that have to do with anything?” 

“It’s how Zen gets me to do stuff. I’ve done laundry for the last-“ Genji quickly counts on his fingers. “-Ten weeks, because he knows it’s my Kryptonite. I’ll agree to basically anything.” 

“Now that you mention it…” Hanzo trails off, remembering the conversation with a pinched, flushed frown while Genji cackles at him. 

“There, there, Hanzo,” Genji slings his arm carefully around his brother’s shoulders. “At least we’re together in being weak, weak men to our handsome boyfriends and their wiles.” 

“You find Jesse attractive?” 

Genji pulls back with an incredulous look. “Do not tell me you’re jealous right now.” 

“Of course not!” Hanzo scowls as he’s grabbed by a Wallmaster, handing the controller back in frustration. “I just didn’t think you’d say that. He’s- rather the opposite of your usual type.” 

“I think you’ve forgotten that my type used to be ‘breathing and consenting,’” Genji snorts, pushing his glasses back up his nose. “God, I did some math the other day and I’m pretty sure I slept with at least fifty people. Good thing I wasn’t a complete idiot or I’d probably have like, every STI by now.” 

“All before you were nineteen?” Hanzo reels a bit when Genji nods, mouth full of fruity candies. “That’s…impressive.” 

“It’s not an accomplishment I’m proud of,” Genji chuckles to himself, scarred hands tapping away at the buttons. “I’m not ashamed of it. It was fun, but it was just another high I was chasing. Plus, you can probably remember all the names of the people you’ve been with.” 

Hanzo laughs, unwrapping a strawberry one for himself. “Well, remembering five names isn’t exactly hard.” 

“Heh, true,” Genji is quiet for a moment, peering curiously at his brother while the game plays a cutscene. “Sooo, if Jesse’s one, then-?” 

Hanzo groans in frustration. “You don’t need to know that much about me.” 

“Sure I do! C’mon, this is such a great bonding opportunity!” Genji flaps a hand at him. “If you can’t share your cringe-worthy dating history with your own brother, who can you share it with? I told you when I lost my virginity.” 

“I would rather have been spared that, honestly,” Hanzo scrubs a hand over his face and leans against the stacked cushions, his back aching for the stretch. “I guess I should say four-and-a-half. I had a one-night-stand that was so bad I got up in the middle and went home.” 

“Hah! No way, how bad was it?” 

“Oh god,” Hanzo rearranges his legs, careful not to kick Genji in the process. “I’ve tried to forget. It felt like I was being searched for drugs at the airport.” 

Genji roars with laughter, getting himself killed again in the process. “The visual I just got- Oh my god, that’s the best and worst thing I’ve ever heard.” 

“You did ask.” Hanzo reaches for his soda, enjoying the satisfying crack-fizz as it opens. “There was another that was actually good, and a- I guess I could call them a friend-with-benefits. It was an on-and-off arrangement, when I was at university.” 

“No romance, huh?” Genji chuckles softly. “I mean, I guess it couldn’t be helped.” 

“Indeed not,” Hanzo scratches at his beard. “I was a little bit infatuated with Yoshitaka for a while, but it was just a physical thing. Never went anywhere.” 

Genji pauses the game and carefully sets the controller down. Turning stiffly and propping his elbow against the couch, he rests his cheek on his palm and smiles a little too wide, blinking deliberately. “Come again?” 

Hanzo furrows his brow. “It’s not a big deal, don’t-“ 

“Not a big deal? _Not a big deal?_ ” Genji barks a breathless laugh, grabbing hold of Hanzo’s sweater. “You slept with your math tutor and never told me?! What did I ever do to deserve such betrayal?” 

Hanzo shoves his brother backwards. “Genji, for god’s sake-” 

“Oh my god, I need a novel about this, and a thirteen-episode adaptation, plus a follow-up movie, this is _amazing,_ ” Genji gestures wildly, his elastic headband slipping back and letting some of his hair free. “People would pay good money for this, you know? A straight-A scholarship student helping one of his underclassmen, who just so happens to be the son of a prominent local family, and then naïve passion start to blossom-“ 

“There was no _passion,_ ” Hanzo interrupts, a frown creasing his face with exasperation. “It was simply lust with no other outlet. With no girls around, there was plenty of- experimentation going on.” 

“Oh, really? Things must have changed when you graduated, ‘cause none of _my_ tutors ever offered to fool around after study sessions,” Genji grabs hold of Hanzo’s arm, laughing and pulling close despite his brother’s attempts to shake him off. “So all those times he slept over, were you two-?” 

“I’m home!” A familiar voice calls out as the door shuts heavily behind him. Zenyatta rolls in, holding a bundle of newspaper tied with string on his lap and wrapped in enough bright pastel layers that only his eyes are visible. “Ah, glad you’re still here! Someone didn’t answer my texts, so I picked up enough fish and chips for the three of us.” 

“Oh, oops,” Genji spares an apologetic glance towards his neglected phone before kneeling up, folding his arms across Zenyatta’s lap and leaning in for a kiss. “Gah, your nose is cold! How was group tonight?” 

“Good, very good, we had a full house, and I actually remembered to set the alarm when I locked up.” Zen reaches out to tuck some of Genji’s hair behind his ear. Hanzo loses the thread of their conversation, quietly noting how if Genji had a tail, it would be wagging excitedly. How his face shines as he looks up at his boyfriend. Most of all, how Zenyatta looks at him with such overwhelming, heartfelt affection. The same look he sees whenever Jesse returns home to him. 

*** 

“I wasn’t-“ 

“I won’t say anything to him,” Zenyatta waves his hand, his voice steady and professional. “Though I’m sure it would please him greatly, to know you’re doing the work.” 

“I’m sure,” Hanzo’s fingers tighten around the handle of his mug. “I only wanted your insight because you know him better than I do.” 

Zenyatta’s expression turns crestfallen, and Hanzo avoids his searching eyes. “I know why you believe that, but it’s not true, and it never will be.” 

“I wasn’t asking for reassurance,” Hanzo replies, a touch of distaste in his tone. “I missed ten years of his life. There is no undoing that.” 

“That may be so,” Zenyatta continues, his voice low. “But as much as I love him, we might spend the rest of our lives together and still not have the bond you two share.” 

*** 

“That’s it.” 

“Mm?” Genji looks up from where he’s slumped on the couch, bent over a term paper that’s due in five hours. Jesse and Hanzo had rearranged their living room so Hanzo’s desk faced out instead of into the corner. With the two of them there, it almost felt like a little studio space, except for the cable box glowing 2:36am and Jesse’s snores echoing from the next room. 

“I need something tall, hot, and full of espresso,” Hanzo mutters as he hauls himself up, grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair. Trying to keep his lines straight on another freelance illustration project gone overtime had become almost impossible. If he could just find an affordable balance between his shifts at the sandwich counter and these projects, this wouldn’t keep happening. “You coming?” 

“Mhmm,” Genji stumbles to his feet, putting his laptop away. “I feel like there’s a dirty joke to be made there, but I can’t think of it right now.” 

The cold air makes their dry eyes water terribly, but the movement shunts some blood back into their brains. In the fluorescent glow of the twenty-four-hour coffee shop, Hanzo finds himself almost lustfully eyeing the glass display of doughnuts. 

“How did you manage to quit smoking?” Hanzo asks, continuing when Genji stares at him quizzically. “I’ve been meaning to cut back my sugar intake, I was wondering if you have any tips for resisting temptation.” 

“Coming to me for advice? I’m touched,” Genji teases. They quickly order and lean against the end of the counter. “I wasn’t actually addicted in the first place. I just smoked through Kaa-san’s last carton and stopped.” 

Several questions form on Hanzo’s tongue, settling on the most obvious. “Why?” 

Genji shrugs, grabs his blonde roast and flashes a winning smile at the cute cashier before they head out. “After the funeral, I kept thinking about them getting thrown out. I couldn’t think about anything else until I snuck into their room and stole it out of her dresser.” He pulls his jacket collar up, shielding his neck from the wind. “Took me about a year to burn through them all, I never went and got any of my own.” 

“Ah, I see.” Hanzo sips his macchiato, ignoring the bitter taste for the promise of an energy boost. 

“I have no idea why it mattered so much to me,” Genji mumbles as they pass darkened storefronts. “I could probably analyze it forever and still not know. Maybe it was a way of hanging on to her? I dunno.” 

“She would have given you hell for it.” 

“And I would have called her a hypocrite and stormed out, probably,” Genji laughs merrily, hushing himself as they head inside. 

They resume their work after Hanzo runs into a half-asleep Jesse on his way back from the bathroom, coaxing him back to bed with a kiss and a few whispered words. They’re quiet for a while, hands busy and drinks emptied in the hopes of getting to sleep before sunrise. 

“What would they think of how we’ve turned out?” 

“Hard to say who they’d be more disappointed by,” Hanzo smiles faintly. “You’d have the easier sell in terms of romantic partners, at least.” 

“You think so?” Genji snickers, taking a break from typing to crack his knuckles. He stares at his screen with a rueful look in his eyes. “There’s so much I wish I could ask them.” 

Hanzo feels the air in the room turn heavy, his shoulders sagging with it as he diligently adds another layer of crosshatching. “I know, I as well.” 

Genji sighs audibly, tracing his fingers over the worn arm of Jesse’s ancient brick red couch. “I think what bothers me the most is that they were probably really interesting people, you know? They had entire lives that we never got to learn about.” 

Hanzo nods in solemn agreement. “Nothing to be done about it, now.” 

“I know that, dumbass,” Genji’s lips twitch. Dark circles stand out on his coppery skin in the painfully white glow of his screen. “I think about going back, looking for- I don’t know what. Visit their graves at least. But as long as all those bastards are still alive, I’m not setting foot in Hanamura again.” 

Hanzo studies his brother closely, as if his rare, genuine anger is a wild animal, easily startled. “Genji, what happened after I left?” 

Genji shakes his head, gazing up at him with a kindness that stings and waving it off, the shadows chased away for now. “Nothing you don’t already know about. Don’t worry so much, anija.” 

*** 

“So that is in the plans, then?” Hanzo smirks in spite of himself. “I thought as much. Don’t bother asking for my blessing, you already have it.” 

“Ah- well! That wasn’t exactly what I meant, but thank you all the same, yes,” Zenyatta rubs the back of his neck, sepia cheeks flushing and making him resemble the young man he actually is. “More to the point though, you’ve both changed a great deal, but keeping him at arm’s length isn’t good for either of you.” 

Hanzo huffs a self-conscious laugh. He stares at his hands, running his thumbnail along the callus on his ring finger. “He’s so happy now. I don’t want to disrupt that.” 

“You wouldn’t be his family if you didn’t do that once in a while.” 

Hanzo glowers. “I’m being serious.” 

“So am I,” Zenyatta replies, entirely sincere. “I’d gladly give Mondatta an eye if he needed one, but I’ve also fought with him to the point of not speaking, more than once.” 

Hanzo raises an eyebrow at that. “That’s…difficult to picture.” 

“What can I say? He’s my big brother. No one loves me more and no one can piss me off quite so effectively,” Zenyatta sips his chiya with a grin. “That’s the true mark of family, in my opinion. We have to put on personas for everyone else, but around those we love most, we can be our whole selves annoying, embarrassing, and selfish parts included, and they’ll still love us.” 

*** 

Jesse palms the heavy keyring into Hanzo’s hand as he’s on his way out. He whispers, the silence left by Genji slamming the door still deafening in Hana’s flat. “Let him go for a drive, blow off some steam. Just make sure he doesn’t get a ticket or nothin,’ alright?” 

Hanzo squeezes Jesse’s hand, a poor show of gratitude but all that can be spared at the moment, and leaves him with their unsettled friends. He shoots a sympathetic glance to Hana, her hand still on her computer mouse and a pained look in her eyes, looking so small while the others mutter amongst themselves. 

Genji’s managed to cover three blocks in the thick, humid air, but Angela’s latest tweaks to his legs let Hanzo catch up and grab his brother’s shoulder. “You really know how to make an exit, don’t you?” 

Genji whirls around, eyes burning with an angry look that would be severely intimidating to anyone else. “Well, sorry for not being prepared to see that out of-!” 

“They didn’t know what it was, and you didn’t need to make a scene.” Hanzo cuts in, voice firm. He interrupts Genji’s continued yelling by holding up the keys. “McCree parked down the street.” 

They drive in figure eights around the city, hovering around the speed limit and fiercely silent for several minutes. Hanzo sits with his arms folded in the passenger seat, torn between being impressed that his brother learned to drive with his left foot and fretting for the state of Jesse’s Jeep. 

“I just don’t know why people need to make that shit,” Genji says at last, sitting over the white line at a red light. “Make a documentary about the old mafia or something. Get your true crime kicks that way. When it’s this recent, show some fucking empathy.” 

“It’s not like Hana knew what it was,” Hanzo says cautiously. “She just happened across it. Does she even know anything about our family?” 

“I don’t think so- Ugh,” Genji rubs at his jaw as if he’s pain, scraping against the stubble growing there. “I know I shouldn’t have- I didn’t want them to feel bad, I just- Come on, aren’t you upset?” 

“I’ve seen that documentary before. I was going to close it when you came out- Watch the road, please,” Hanzo winces as they’re honked at when Genji turns to gawk at him. “And no, I don’t know why I did. There was nothing new to me. It was years ago, I guess I was just being a masochist.” 

“No kidding,” Genji’s voice comes out rough. He squints at the traffic ahead and Hanzo chooses not to ask how strong his glasses prescription is. “I wonder if that’s what some of the mail was about. I used to get letters from Tou-san’s cousins at my old address, one from the Nakanos, too.” 

Hanzo’s jaw clenches. “How did they find you?” 

“I don’t fucking know,” Genji smacks his hand limply against the wheel, then tangles it in his hair. “I marked them all ‘return to sender,’ haven’t gotten any at our new place, yet.” 

“Did you open any?” 

“No, would you have?” 

Hanzo swallows audibly. “…Probably, yes. Just to- know whatever information they had to share.” 

“That’s okay,” Genji says, barely above a whisper, fingers loosening on the wheel. “I don’t blame you. I wanted to know too, but I’m not playing those fucking games again. I can’t. You know they’d only say enough to sucker you back into their bullshit, you know that.” 

They’re quiet again. Hanzo tries to focus on the sticky leather seat beneath him, the rattling hum of the engine, anything to ground him and shake off the thoughts that creep back into his mind. Breathe one through his nose, out two, three. “Genji, I-“ 

The boppy opening notes of ‘Calendar Girl’ suddenly blast out of his brother’s pocket, startling them both. Genji quickly fumbles for his phone, shoving it at Hanzo. “Shit, it’s Zen. Can you- just text him and say I’m fine and I’ll be home later? God, I’ve made a real ass of myself this time.” 

Hanzo quickly does as he’s asked, hanging up the call and noting it’s him writing to avoid any pet names from a concerned Zenyatta. He replaces the phone in the front of Genji’s tank top, waiting a moment before speaking again. “Why is that your ringtone for him?” 

Genji smiles weakly. “What? It’s from one of his favourite movies. He likes it.” 

“It makes me worry what you have set for me.” 

“Uhh, I actually don’t remember, you never call me.” Genji rounds a corner, heading vaguely in the direction of Hana’s place. “Call it and find out, I’m curious now.” 

Hanzo does, to fill the air if nothing else. A moment passes before loud, bombastic synth fills the cab. 

_Jūrenjā! Jūrenjā!_  
Densetsu no senshi-tachi yo!  
Jūrenjā! Jūrenjā!  
Toki wo kakeru kibō! 

The two glance at each other for a split-second before breaking down into whoops of laughter. The release of tension drags it out, Genji’s laughs turning into near-asthmatic wheezes and a few tears streaming down Hanzo’s face. It feels necessary, and so miraculously familiar, that he can hardly catch his breath. 

*** 

Hanzo lowers his head, the tension in his throat spreading out through his neck. “I worry that he’s been less than transparent with you.” He swallows as Zenyatta tilts his head in concern. “If you love him as much as you say, you can’t know everything and still hand-wave my waltzing back into his life. I can’t even remotely understand why he does, other than a feeling of obligation.” 

“Now that’s a little much, don’t you think?” Zenyatta tuts, at once fond and perturbed. 

“Didn’t you just say how deeply we can be harmed by those we trust? Making an exception for me would be very hypocritical.” His tone is snappish, dismissive, and Hanzo immediately feels a shift in the weight of his gaze. 

“Well, if that’s the line you’re going to take, I’ll kindly remind you that Genji’s scars were much fresher when we met. I don’t know him as well as you do, but I’m very familiar with that period of his life.” A brief, pregnant pause. “I can’t and won’t speak for him, but I’ll confirm this much; your meeting was a coincidence, but he was looking for you for years. He would have eventually found you by sheer determination, I’m sure of it.” 

Hanzo’s spine straightens as if yanked up by a string. “Why?” 

The young man folds his arms against himself, smiling sadly across the table. “I was really hoping that by now, you wouldn’t have to ask that question.” 

*** 

“I’m gonna ask Zenyatta to marry me.” 

Hanzo’s hand twitches, knocking over several sticks of deodourant as his head snaps around. “Really? When?” 

“Dunno, but it has to be soon,” Genji stuffs his hands in the pockets of his white hoodie. The squeak of his sneakers against the linoleum is loud above the pop music droning through the ceiling speakers. Very few people are at the supermarket past eleven, but he insisted on joining Hanzo on his post-work shopping trip, a recent spate of rainy weather and subsequent painkillers having thoroughly toyed with both of their sleeping schedules. “He asked me out first, and he asked me to move in, if he goes three for three, I’ve got nothing left!” 

“Pointless competition, a wonderful foundation for marriage.” Hanzo drawls, pushing his slowly-filling cart to eyeball the display of shampoo and do some quick dollar-to-milliliters conversions in his head. 

“I’m being serious!” Genji insists, though his easy smile is plain in his voice, laughter bubbling up unrestrained. “It’s not like I’m springing it on him, we’ve talked about it. It’s important to him- to both of us. Hell, we practically have the wedding planned already, but- I want to show him how much he means to me, you know? Nothing over-the-top, just something nice and romantic, something- worthy of him.” 

“You’ve given this some thought,” Hanzo hums, watching his brother as he leans on a display of goat milk soap and fidgets. “I’m sure Zenyatta will be thrilled by anything you come up with, so long as it’s private.” 

“Hah, true. But imagine the look on his face!” Genji giggles helplessly, trailing behind Hanzo. “Maybe I can record it somehow, would that be weird?- Oh hey, the good toilet paper’s on sale.” 

“Get two.” Hanzo snort-laughs as his brother makes a show of slam-dunking the packages into the cart and dancing around like a fool. 

Genji bounds back to Hanzo’s side, studying him with a curious glint in his eyes. “Are you and McCree gonna get married eventually?” 

Hanzo chews on a corner of his lip, forcing the cart around a corner and fighting against its misaligned wheel. “I’m not sure, we haven’t discussed it yet.” 

“Oh, but Hanzo, you’re the eldest!” Genji affects a high voice and leans heavily on his brother’s shoulder. “If you don’t get married, I’ll have to spend the rest of my days as a maid!” They laugh, hearty and echoing in the deserted aisles. 

“Perhaps I’ll bring it up tomorrow, we were planning on having a night in,” Hanzo gently shrugs him off, scratching his chin and scrutinizing a disappointing display of meat. 

“Wait, are you serious?” Genji balls his hands up, face splitting in absolute glee. “For real, you’re gonna ask him?” 

“I’m not proposing,” Hanzo holds his hands up, though he finds himself fighting a smile. “Even if I knew he wanted to, I wouldn’t subject our friends to two weddings in one year, and you called first dibs.” 

“You could elope, just so long as me and Zen get to come,” Genji keeps grinning, nearly bouncing in place. “You’re really thinking about it! This is so cool!” 

“Don’t get carried away,” Hanzo scoffs, finally selecting a less-than-ideal cut in the hopes Jesse can work his magic on it. 

“How can I not?” Genji laughs breathlessly and hauls him in for a one-armed hug, slightly choking him. “I’ve seen you guilt yourself over buying a chocolate bar, and now you’re gonna get married! And I’m gonna get married! Look at us go, getting the lives we so richly deserve!” 

“Sometimes I wonder if you can hear yourself,” Hanzo laughs as Genji raises a victorious fist, half-dragging his brother with him as he keeps going. “And I told you, I don’t know how he feels about it.” 

“Pft, the hell you don’t,” Genji’s wide grin fills the corner of his vision. “Now, about my bachelor party-“ 

*** 

Hanzo harshly rubs his temples. “I’m sorry, but it still doesn’t make any sense. What I’ve done to him is unforgiveable.” 

Zenyatta sighs softly and sips his drink. “His forgiveness is his decision, no one else’s.” 

Hanzo scowls, his jaw tensing up. “I shouldn’t be a part of his life, I have no right.” 

“Then why are you?” 

Hanzo stalls out, searching for resentment, frustration, any sign that he’s finally gotten Zenyatta to give up the polite façade and show how he really feels, but the words are kind and gentle, if somewhat tired. “Genji is persuasive, certainly, but he does not force you to spend time with him. You could turn him away if you wished.” 

“Well of course I wouldn’t! He’s-“ Hanzo stops, knowing he’s backed himself into a corner. He returns his gaze to the table, focusing on an old stain in the wood. “…I just don’t understand what he sees in me that is worth keeping around.” 

“You’ll have to discover that for yourself,” Zenyatta reaches across the table, resting his fingers lightly on Hanzo’s wrist and waiting for him to look up, smiling as he does. “But as a note from personal experience, younger siblings will always look up to their older ones, even when they’re both supposed to be grown up. It’s worth remembering that.” 

Hanzo moves to press Zenyatta’s hand, but retreats, feeling much too awkward. “I apologize. I should not have dumped all this on you.” 

“There’s nothing wrong with opening up, though I might have to invoice you next time,” Zenyatta chuckles and Hanzo weakly joins him. He stands and politely gathers their cups, rinsing them out in the sink. He takes a deep breath, drawing away the tightness that’s been building in his throat. 

“Thank you, for this. You’re a good man.” 

“As are you, Hanzo, I’m sorry you haven’t heard that enough.” 

*** 

Hanzo is up with the sun, tugging a reluctant Jesse away from slumber and into the bathroom so they can shower and freshen up. He savours a few long moments with his cheek pressed to a warm shoulder and his arms around a soft middle, then shuffles off to put on some boxers. 

“Genji?-Oh,” He cracks the door to find his brother sprawled in the middle of his king-sized bed, covers kicked off and his hands behind his head as he stares blankly at the ceiling. “How long have you been awake?” 

“What time is it?” Genji rolls over and squints at his phone, wheezing and oozing to the floor like a slug. “Oh my god, it’s today. Hanzo, _it’s today._ ” 

“Glad you haven’t developed amnesia.” Hanzo snickers, watching as Genji pushes himself up on his remaining leg and hops over to his forearm crutches. Hanzo snatches Genji’s phone out of his hand despite his loud protests. “Everything is under control. Put a shirt on and come eat.” 

Jesse’s already buzzing around the kitchen, whistling some vaguely familiar, chipper tune and serving fried eggs, hashbrowns, and toast onto their plates while Genji intently studies several scribbled index cards. Hanzo laughs affectionately when he comes around again with strips of bacon. “You always cook like you’re feeding a small army.” 

“Can’t let my baby go hungry,” Jesse bends to press a whiskery, smacking kiss to Hanzo’s cheek. He glances up when Genji doesn’t make one of his usual comments. “Y’alright there, pal?” 

“Mm?” He looks up, the strap of his crop top sliding down as he shovels food into his mouth. “Oh, yeah, I’m just trying to- you know, memorize my vows and not screw up the most important moment of my life, that’s all. I’m fine. This is fine. Totally fine.” 

McCree frowns in concern and quietly scrapes most of the bacon onto Genji’s plate. Hanzo sighs and returns to his own food. “He’s stress-eating, don’t encourage him.” 

Jesse shrugs and takes his seat at the small table. “Few extra calories won’t hurt.” 

They eat in peaceable silence, Hanzo’s hand upon Jesse’s knee as he fields text messages from Zen and their friends. He shoves Genji in the direction of the shower as soon as they’re finished, making beds, washing dishes, and laying out Genji’s clothes while McCree gets dressed in the guest room. Small by most standards, the celebration is still the result of months-long collaboration and planning. Genji deserves to enjoy every moment, so Hanzo is happy to play brother, father, and mother simultaneously. 

It’s not without its rewards, like the sight of Jesse standing tall in sleek black trousers and a matching waistcoat, wine red tie hanging open at his neck while he fixes his cufflinks, half-moon glasses perched precariously on his nose and those damned black cowboy boots on his feet. 

“Why has this been sitting in your closet?” Hanzo inserts himself into the circle of Jesse’s arms, tying a quick Windsor knot and sweeping his hands hungrily over that handsome broad chest under his silk shirt. 

“Last special occasion I trotted this out for was a funeral,” Jesse chuckles, combing his fingers through his hair. “Y’like it? Doesn’t look too young for me?” 

“You look absolutely stunning,” Hanzo replies, kissing him soundly and sliding his hands down to Jesse’s wide hips. “I’m going to enjoy tearing this off you as soon as we get home.” 

Jesse laughs against his lips, dropping his head to Hanzo’s shoulder. “Darlin’, don’t say things like that when I have to keep my hands off you all day, it’s just cruel.” 

“Good, I shouldn’t be the only one suffering,” Hanzo says coolly, cracking on a high-pitched giggle when Jesse blows a raspberry on his neck. It’s a miracle he gets his pants and shirt on at all. 

Genji’s still in the bathroom, much to his dismay. Wrapped in a towel and frowning at his slicked-back green hair. “I shouldn’t have re-dyed it. What if I look back and hate all our wedding photos?” 

“Zenyatta likes it, for whatever reason, that’s all that matters.” Hanzo elbows him out of the way and starts unscrewing his bridge piercing. “Get dressed. We’re going to be late.” 

Genji grumbles and grabs his crutches, jabbing at him with one before he leaves. “Leave those in. If I have to look stupid in ten years, so do you.” 

Hanzo leans against the kitchen counter, petting Genji and Zen’s anxious and needy tabby cat Chuck, and trying not to get any of her hair on his dark blue suit. He smiles as she purrs and bats at him, missing Den, their one-year-old mutt who’s spending the weekend in the boarding kennels at Jesse’s work. “Poor little thing, you have no clue what’s going on, do- Ow, no biting! I fed you!” 

Jesse appears, shouldering the dry-cleaning bag with Genji’s reception outfit and jabbing his thumb towards the door. “I’m gonna bring the car around, you guys good?” 

“I think so,” Hanzo pats his jacket pockets. “Keys, wallet, rings, gifts are in the trunk-“ He spares a glance at his phone. “-Nothing’s on fire, I think we’re ready.” 

“Great,” Jesse presses close, palming his waist and drawing out their kiss an extra moment or two, leaving his smoky taste on Hanzo’s lips. “See you downstairs, gorgeous.” 

Hanzo feels a faint flush of happiness, heading into his brother’s room without knocking. “Ready to go?” 

Genji blows out a breath and stands, cutting a very dashing figure in his black haori and hakama. Zenyatta’s briefly expressed desire to see him in traditional clothes had paid off, and Hanzo was only too happy to rent it for him (“Don’t buy it unless you want to bury me in it, when I am gonna wear it again?”). But he isn’t smiling. 

“What’s the matter?” Hanzo steps closer. “Do you feel sick? I can get you some water.” 

“Heh, no, I’m fine. It’s just-“ He presses the heel of his palm against his eye as tears well up. “I’m just- ah, _fuck._ ” 

“Genji-?” Hanzo has to step back to balance himself as Genji pulls him into a hug, arms so tight around his ribs that it’s hard for Hanzo to breathe. 

“When Zen and I first got together,” Genji manages, hands shaking and voice raspy against Hanzo’s shoulder. “I-I was so worried you’d never get to see any of this. I wasn’t even sure you were alive, and I’m just _so glad you’re here, Hanzo._ ” 

It all crystallizes at once in Hanzo’s mind, amidst whimpering half-sobs he hasn’t heard since childhood. He’s a complete and utter fool. He only ever thought of himself, what he missed out on during his absence. He only saw how well Genji was doing now, how happy and together he was despite the cruelty of their separation. He never stopped to think that Genji might have wanted his big brother around, might have missed him, might have needed him and he was just _gone._

The tears overflow. He’s stupid, and so selfish to have taken Genji’s strength and joy as justification for his actions, to use it as proof for his self-loathing thoughts that he wasn’t needed, or even wanted. He hugs Genji back, fiercely enough that he might understand through actions alone that he will never leave him alone and scared again. Nothing but death will take him from his brother’s side. 

“Thank you- for letting me be here, Genji,” Hanzo murmurs some time later, his words coming out thick and strangled. “I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” Genji answers in earnest, his voice breaking on a wheeze. He pulls back and wipes his red eyes with his fingertips, gratefully accepting a tissue from Hanzo and clapping his hands once they’re both sufficiently recovered. “Whew- okay! Bridal meltdown accomplished, let’s go do this wedding thing!” 

Hanzo crows with relieved laughter as Genji hurries him out the door, suddenly full of energy. “You aren’t pretty enough to be a bride.” 

“First of all, _ouch,_ ” Genji presses a hand to his heart, feigning a wounded expression as Hanzo hits the down button. “Second of all, I’m a _bride_ groom, so it totally still works.” 

Hanzo shakes his head as they step into the elevator. “If you say so.” 

*** 

The Shambali Monastery sits on the edge of the city. A proud, beautiful facsimile of the original in Nepal, backed by a large nature preserve with a proper forest, a river, and a field just large enough to set up a dance floor and enough tables for all their guests. 

“How was Zenyatta this morning?” 

Mondatta chortles, leaning carefully against the whitewashed wall, his gold earrings glinting from the yellow fairy lights strung overhead. Hanzo had found him somewhat of an imposing presence on their first meeting, but he was quite affable beneath the commanding voice and rare smiles. “Spinning like a top. I thought I’d have to sit on him to get him into that suit. And Genji?” 

“Much the same,” Hanzo smiles in turn, watching his brother swing Angela around the dancefloor, both of them laughing loud enough to be heard over the music. “Where is your brother, by the way?” 

“Caught in the middle over there,” Mondatta gestures to a cluster of Shambali monks, almost merged together by their matching white robes and shorn heads. “He’s the youngest of our original group, still tends to get treated like the baby.” 

“How much does he enjoy that?” 

“Less so enjoys, more kindly tolerates,” Mondatta sighs, buttoning his jacket against the chill of the evening air. “I suppose I should go rescue him, at least temporarily.” 

Jesse appears at his side not long after, bearing a glass of punch and one of the many grey blankets they’d purchased on the cheap when the mild autumn weather didn’t hold out quite as long as they hoped. “I’m surprised no one’s spiked it yet.” 

“Eh, it’s still early,” Jesse grins, wrapping the blanket around Hanzo’s shoulders and smiling when he nuzzles into his arms. “So, this earn me enough brownie points for a dance?” 

Hanzo snorts, letting his eyes fall shut. “How dare you come to me with ulterior motives.” 

“Aw, just one?” Jesse pleads, tightening his embrace and pressing his cheek to one of Hanzo’s shaved sides. “I’ll have Lúcio put on something good, promise.” 

“Mm, well, since you’ve twisted my arm,” Hanzo’s voice is soft as he sips his drink. Still teasing, but a little pleased. 

“Yo, Hanzo!” Genji comes running up, nearly falling against the two of them. He smells like champagne and there’s sweat stains on his dress shirt. Hanzo wonders where his jacket’s gotten off to, only to look up and find Angela wearing it while dancing on one of the speakers, Jesse’s former foster sister Fareeha flitting fearfully around the base and trying to act as her safety net. 

“We have a surprise for you!” Genji finds his footing as Zenyatta comes up beside him, briefly freed from the tireless affections of his brothers and sisters. “Show him, Zen!” 

“Well, we went out on a bit of limb, but I hope you approve-ah!” Zenyatta yelps as Genji impatiently yanks his sleeve up. “Mind the jacket, dear, it’s a rental.” 

“Sorry, I got excited,” Genji says, quickly kissing Zenyatta’s cheek. Hanzo stops listening for a moment, astonished by the golden yellow and black dragon emblazoned on Zenyatta’s left forearm. A much more minimalistic design than his or Genji’s, with the head resting on the outer wrist and the thin body and tail looping up to his elbow. Flaking slightly in some places, still healing. The positioning of it would mirror Genji’s when they faced each other, as their parent’s dragons once had. 

“Damn, how many sessions did that take?” Jesse interjects, sounding duly impressed. 

“More than a few, but it was worth spending all summer in long sleeves,” Zenyatta grins bashfully, then looks up at Hanzo with searching eyes. “What do you think?” 

“It’s wonderful,” Hanzo finally says, nearly stumbling on the words. He bends, clasping Zenyatta’s hand in both of his and bowing his head slightly. “I would ask you to take care of him, but you’ve been doing a perfectly good job of that for some time, so I’ll ask instead that you keep each other happy for as long as you can.” 

“We’ll do our best,” Zenyatta bows his head in turn, smiling brightly as he quickly hugs his new brother-in-law. 

“Hehehe, awh, Hanzo always gets so mushy at weddings,” Genji hangs off Jesse’s arm, grinning wickedly. “So, when are you getting yours, McCree?” 

“I reckon that depends on your brother,” Jesse laughs fondly, shaking with it when Hanzo shoves Genji nearly off-balance, stumbling on the wet grass at their feet and catching himself on the monastery wall. 

Genji recovers quickly, leading Zenyatta to the dancefloor when ‘their jam’ comes on. Even at a glance, they’re hopelessly lost in each other, barely watching where they’re going. Jesse leads Hanzo back into the crowd, arm securely around his shoulders as Lena and Emily come bounding up to tell them something outrageous. 

The festivities carry on long after their hosts retire to prayers and bed, a collective passionate energy keeping the chill at bay. It’s infectious, their friends so rarely all together and aglow with excitement. Hanzo grows tired and his joints ache, feeling old for his age, but Jesse is so warm against him as they sway amongst the crowd, arms looped around each other. Singing under his breath in Hanzo’s ear, his voice so rich and tender. He pulls back to kiss Hanzo’s forehead and just stares at him, smiling and dopey. “What is it?” 

“Oh, nothin’,” Jesse’s grin widens, the smattering of freckles on his tawny brown cheeks almost overlapping in the cold light of the moon and stars. “Just can’t believe my luck, is all.” 

Hanzo huffs a laugh, feeling the traitorous burn of his blush as he presses closer. “Neither can I, my love.”

**Author's Note:**

> I made another series of things, whoops 
> 
> I worry Hanzo came off as a prude at points, he's definitely not (quite the opposite, really). He just already knows way more about his baby brother's sex life than he ever needed to know. Similarly, I hope Zenyatta didn't come off as cold. He's been through the Shimada Self-Loathing Dance once already and he's waiting for the part where Hanzo learns to accept love from himself and others. 
> 
> Zenyatta's counselling tips are based in reality (hello college education I'm still paying for), but please reach out if you're struggling, Zenyatta believes in you!! 
> 
> Pointless trivia I couldn't shoehorn into the fic:  
> None of the Overwatch characters seem to have canon birthdays that I've found, so my hc birthdays for Hanzo and Genji are Jan. 2nd and Feb. 15th respectively. Zen's a couple years younger than Genji. 
> 
> I have a lot of hcs about the Shimada parents, I'd like to put them in a fic at some point. I'm quite attached to both of them (even though they're dead, oops). Would anyone be into that? 
> 
> Jesse actually was the one to teach Genji how to drive back when they were new patients in Dr. Ziegler's lab. It was the most terrifying thing he ever subjected himself to, but it also cemented their friendship and went a long way towards making Genji less of an Angry Young Man.  
> Also Genji was, as he puts it, 'still a gigantic asshole' when he first met Jesse and didn't like him at all. Jesse kept being himself and they gradually became friends AKA basically the same thing he did with Hanzo but with less seduction AKA the way to a grumpy Shimada's heart is by being a big friendly doofus 
> 
> I sincerely apologize for the Kyōryū Sentai Zyuranger joke, except I don't because you can bet your buns 7-year-old Genji would sit five inches from the television to watch every single episode while 10-year-old Hanzo yelled at him to get down in front. Genji's fave was Tyranno Ranger and Hanzo's was Ptera Ranger. I put too much thought into this. 
> 
> Very important pet headcanons: Hanzo and Jesse's dog Den is is named after Den from FMA because I am weeb trash (and so is Hanzo, secretly). He's a shelter pup, a German Shepherd mix who is fluffy and stupid and they love him more than anything. Genji and Zen's cat Chuck (originally named Charlotte, but then weekend TV binges happened) is also a shelter baby who likes to scream at them and eat their houseplants. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!!!
> 
> Edit: I um, made the playlist of songs I listened to while writing this, in case anyone is into that sort of thing, enjoy!: https://open.spotify.com/user/meghanbeemo/playlist/4yoiX56dK1J8q6AKmByGvR?si=yggoJNyoT_efY_upr4467g


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